


The Hatter, the Hook, and the Swan

by gabby227



Series: The Hatter, the Hook, and the Swan [1]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, Barista Jefferson, Curse Breaking, Father Rumpelstiltskin | Mr. Gold, Father-Son Relationship, First Kiss, Friends to Lovers, Gold Ships It, Jefferson & Emma are siblings, Jefferson Believes In the Curse, M/M, Mutual Pining, Tea Shop Owner Jefferson
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-20
Updated: 2019-06-20
Packaged: 2020-05-15 13:05:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,337
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19296343
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gabby227/pseuds/gabby227
Summary: Jefferson had grown up knowing about the curse, believing in it. Even though there were only 3 people, other than Regina, who knew about the curse, Jefferson believed it more than anybody.And then Emma Swan came to town.





	The Hatter, the Hook, and the Swan

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Angst_BuriTTo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Angst_BuriTTo/gifts).



> This is for Rachel. She has a habit, over on the Bucky Barnes discord server, to randomly _throw_ ideas at me, and this is the result of one of those ideas and her current _Once Upon a Time_ obsession. 
> 
> I've never written OUAT before. All you really need to know for this verse, because I'm making it a series, is Jefferson & Emma are siblings, Mr. Gold raised Jefferson along with Killian, and Jefferson ends up helping Emma break the curse.
> 
> Everything else will become apparent when you read it.

When he heard the door open, Jefferson didn't have to question who was coming into his house.

Killian Jones had been Jefferson's best friend for a long time. They had grown up together. Even though Jefferson'd had a rather peculiar life, Killian had always been there for him.

Jefferson's foster father, William Gold, had told him the truth a long time ago. He had told him where he came from and who his _birth_ parents really were -- they were a _prince_ and _princess_ , for God's sake. He also had a sister! An older one, that was going to be the savior of their little town.

And even though Jefferson wasn't really William's son, that didn't stop him from treating Jefferson like a son. He'd raised him since he was a baby and had filled Jefferson in with everything that had happened before he was born.

Nobody ever believed him, of course. Well, nobody but _Henry_.

The mayor's son. If William was to be believed, Henry Mills was Jefferson's _nephew_. Someone that Jefferson had known for all the boy's life.

"Love?" Killian asked, and the term of endearment made Jefferson's heart skip a beat. He would never tell Killian, but Jefferson'd had a crush on the man for most of their lives. They had grown up together -- after all, William Gold had raised both Killian _and_ Jefferson -- so they lived together, gone to school together, learned together -- and for a long time, Killian Jones was the only friend that Jefferson had. But he wanted more.

"Did you say something, Killian?" Jefferson asked, even though he knew damn well what Killian was doing there.

Jefferson's twenty-fifth birthday was very quickly approaching. And, like always, Killian was worried that Jefferson was going to spend the night wallowing. Daydreaming and trying to find the family that nobody else ever believed existed.

Nobody but William Gold and Jefferson himself.

"I was just wondering if you were doing alright," Killian said, plopping down on the couch in front of the window, where Jefferson was just staring at the stars. A lot of the time, he would stand there and daydream. He would dream about his family, about how they would react when they met him; he also often though about his big sister.

"I'm okay," Jefferson said, not moving from his place in front of the window.

"How about we go out?" Killian suggested. "We can go get dinner at Granny's. Maybe go and get a drink or two. There's a new pub in town."

"Æsop's Tables?" Jefferson asked. "The one that just opened?"

Killian nodded.

"I don't know, Hook," Jefferson said, using the nickname he bestowed upon Killian many years ago. Killian had been in an accident where he had lost his left hand and Dr. Whale put a hook prosthetic there. Of course, at ten years old, Killian had thought it was hilarious.

As did William and Jefferson; Killian's hook became a really big inside joke between the three of them.

Jefferson could tell Killian was just trying to cheer him up.

"Your birthday is next week," Killian said, this time trying a different tactic. "What do you want to do to celebrate?"

"I'm going to the hospital," Jefferson stated. "See John."

Killian knew that Jefferson was so sure that the man who'd been in the hospital for the last twenty-five years was his father. His _birth_ father. He'd been in a coma for as long as anybody could remember, and nobody had come forward for him, so he'd been labeled as John Doe. And because of that, and the fact that nobody knew his real name, both Jefferson and Henry had taken to calling him John.

But they both knew the truth.

They knew that the man in the hospital was really Prince James -- or someone that was known as Prince Charming. That's what Jefferson's mother called him, at least -- at least, according to William Gold, that is.

"Do you think that's a good idea, love?" Killian asked, his voice soft and gentle. Jefferson shot his friend a look.

"I'm going to see him, Hook," Jefferson said firmly. "One day, he's going to wake up, and I want to be there when he does."

He knew that arguing with Jefferson was just futile, so instead, Killian just nodded.

It hadn't taken very long for Jefferson to know that Killian didn't believe him -- he'd known that for as long as they'd been friends. He knew that anybody he talked to -- Mary Margaret, or Ruby, or even Killian, who was his very best friend in the entire world -- they just humored him. They didn't understand why he believed what he did.

But William Gold had told him the truth.

"Well, how about we go to the pub and get a few drinks?" Killian asked after a moment, trying to kill the awkward silence in the room. "I'm buying."

Jefferson smiled softly as he nodded, "Sure. Sounds good."

***

When Emma Swan came to town, Jefferson was struck speechless. He wasn't sure how, but he _knew_ she was his older sister. The one that William Gold had told him about.

Mr. Gold had magic. Magic that Jefferson didn't understand, but he was never scared of him. He knew that Mr. Gold was _really_ Rumpelstiltskin, and that, back in the Enchanted Forest, not a lot of people trusted him. How he was sneaky, and tricky, and he always kept to all of his deals. Apparently, he was intimidating, but Jefferson was never scared of him.

So, Jefferson was raised around magic, and he'd learned very quickly how to sense when someone had it. And Emma did.

The whole town was buzzing with gossip when Emma brought Henry back to Regina. And then she'd decided to stay for a while. And Jefferson wanted to know her.

When Emma was kicked out of Granny's Bed and Breakfast, he knew she didn't have anywhere else to go, so that's when he tracked her down.

"The name's Jefferson," he introduced himself to her, his stormy eyes trained on Emma's green ones. He could tell from all the mess that she'd been living in her car. "I know you don't have anywhere to live right now."

She eyed him suspiciously but nodded anyway. "So if you're going to rob me, apparently you have free rein," she muttered bitterly. "Just do it already."

He chuckled, and could tell from Emma's response that she wasn't expecting it. "Sweetheart, I don't want to rob you," he said softly, seriously. "I heard about everything that Regina's done to you. She's a fucking bitch."

"Ain't that the truth," Emma scoffed. "Why do you care?"

"Because you're a nice girl and I was curious about the new girl in town. We don't really _get_ new people here."

He wasn't sure he wanted to reveal the truth to her right away. He'd grown up his whole life knowing the truth, but nobody but Henry ever believed him. Henry had been small when Jefferson had given him the book; it was a book of fairy tales that William had made for Jefferson when he was just a boy.

Jefferson himself had met Henry at Granny's Diner when he was just a small boy. For some reason that Jefferson couldn't fathom -- at the time, of course -- Regina _hated_ Jefferson. Of course, Jefferson hadn't done anything to Regina, so he ended up just seeing Henry here and there.

And Henry believed everything that Jefferson had told him.

Everything that William had told Jefferson, who in turn told Henry, and Henry believed it all. He believed that Jefferson was his uncle, because Emma Swan, the _savior_ , was his mother. He had even taken to calling him 'Uncle Jeffy,' which _really_ pissed Regina off.

Jefferson was worried Emma wouldn't trust him. He really _wanted_ her to trust him. She was his big sister, after all. He had missed so many years with her and he wanted to get to know her. It was a weird feeling, after all -- knowing their mother, knowing his nephew, but not knowing his full family. He hated it.

"I have a house not far from here," he mentioned to her. "I've got more room than I know what to do with. A friend of mine rooms with me every once in a while, but other than that, I've got plenty of room if you want to stay."

"What's it gonna cost me?" Emma asked tentatively, the look of apprehension written all over her face. "What's your price?"

Jefferson just shook his head. "No price, sweetheart. And just for as long as you need, if that would make you feel better."

 _Because we're family_ , Jefferson wanted to say to her. _I would never hurt you because you're my big sister. I don't really know you, but I already love you._

She looked like she was thinking it over but, finally, she sighed. "Sure," she agreed. "Why don't you show me the way to your house?"

"I didn't actually drive out here," Jefferson admitted. Sure, he _knew_ how to drive, but ever since he moved out of William's house when he turned eighteen, he didn't do it very often. He liked to walk around Storybrooke, especially at night, just watching the stars and thinking. It gave him peace.

"Alright," Emma nodded. "Why don't you get in and I'll take you home?"

Jefferson just nodded.

He wondered what Killian was going to say to him bringing Emma home. Killian knew that Jefferson and Emma were siblings -- well, to Killian, it was just one of Jefferson's daydreams, but _Jefferson_ knew it was true.

Killian often stayed at Jefferson's overnight. It didn't matter that they were next-door neighbors and had been since they were eighteen years old, Killian often stayed over in one of Jefferson's guest rooms. He had often told him it was just to make sure Jefferson would actually come out and see the outside world every once in a while instead of hiding inside of his house when he wasn't working.

The night of their late-night conversation, Jefferson and Killian had gone to the pub, where Killian had tried to hook Jefferson up with a girl named Priscilla. She was a nice girl, that wasn't to be denied, but he just didn't feel it with her. And there was a reason.

Jefferson was head over heels for his best friend.

Jefferson and Killian had been raised together. According to William Gold -- and Jefferson's storybook, for a matter of fact -- Killian had been left on Neverland by his brother and Killian had been turned back into a child by Peter Pan. Rumpelstiltskin had found out about it but didn't think _anybody_ deserved to spend time with his father -- not even Killian. So he rescued him and they escaped from Neverland, and then, William had also raised Jefferson as well.

So Jefferson and Killian had been raised as brothers, but that was the furthest thing that Jefferson loved him as.

He wasn't sure when he stopped liking Killian as just a friend and started _loving_ him. He'd loved Killian since he was old enough to know what romantic love was. But Killian didn't want him like that -- he _couldn't_ \-- so Jefferson was his friend.

He didn't want Killian out of his life, though. So he was going to be the best goddamned friend Killian had; that way, he was still a part of his life, even if it wasn't the part Jefferson _wanted_.

Jefferson gave Emma directions to his mansion as soon as he climbed into Emma's yellow Beetle. His house was one of the larger ones in Storybrooke -- it was only Regina who had a larger home -- because as soon as Jefferson was eighteen years old, William Gold had gifted him with this one. He thought Jefferson deserved it, even though he was rather vague when he handed Jefferson the keys.

And yeah, William _had_ raised both Jefferson and Killian, but Killian and William had animosity -- it was animosity that Killian himself didn't _remember_ , even though William did and told Jefferson about it. William tried really hard to treat both of the boys fairly, but there were times that he was just so furious at everything that had happened that there were times that he couldn't help that little bit of anger at Killian from slipping out.

It was a good thing that Killian never really noticed it, honestly. But Jefferson always did -- and he knew the reason why, which justified it sometimes, he guessed.

As soon as Jefferson and Emma drove into Jefferson's driveway, he could tell Emma was surprised by the way her eyes widened and her mouth dropped into an O of surprise. He chuckled at her response.

"You live _here_?" she asked incredulously, like she couldn't believe it. He nodded again.

"Wow," she said, sounding amazed.

Jefferson helped Emma carry her stuff into the house after he unlocked the front door. He led her to a guest bedroom and told her she could set up wherever she wanted. He'd heard that she was working for the sheriff, and when she offered to pay him rent, he denied it.

"No way," he answered her, shaking his head. "Stay here for as long as you like, okay? Use whatever you want. The only request I have is that if you use the last of something, would you please let me know?"

She nodded.

He moved into the kitchen to make himself a cup of tea. Jefferson was big on teas; they calmed him, they soothed him, they were just a rather pleasant drink to have around, especially after a rough day.

Jefferson liked tea so much that it had been what he decided to do, when he opened Cheshire Tea, that was on Main Street, next door to Granny's Diner.

Regina had fought hard as hell to keep Cheshire Tea from even opening, but Jefferson had not only William Gold, but Granny, Ruby, Mary Margaret, Leroy, and Killian on his side. In the end, the shop was opened, and it was one of the town's favorites.

William often told Jefferson he didn't _really_ have to do any work if he didn't want to -- William Gold was one of the richest men in Storybrooke and Jefferson was entitled to that money because the whole entirety of the town thought William was really his father.

"Would you like some tea, Emma?" Jefferson asked softly when Emma came into the kitchen to see what he was doing. Jefferson was so sure it was because he had a large house and she was just kind of looking around. He knew that Emma had grown up in foster care and had probably never seen anything this large before -- at least, not as a residence.

She nodded silently.

Jefferson took a tray into the parlor, where he motioned to the couch for Emma to sit. She did, and he placed the tea tray on the coffee table. He poured her a cup, asking her if she wanted sugar or cream. He doctored the tea the way she liked it and handed it to her. She took it in her hand, although she eyed Jefferson suspiciously.

He chuckled, "You watched me pour it, sweetheart." He then decided to pour himself a cup of tea as well, doctoring it the way he liked it, and then took a sip so Emma could see him. Once she saw him drink his own tea and nothing happened to him, she nodded, as if she understood, and took a drink of her own.

"So, tell me about yourself, sweetheart," Jefferson stated, but she shot him a look of steel.

"I have a name, you know," she said firmly, "and it's not _sweetheart_. It's Emma."

He nodded, scolding himself at his fuck up. "Sorry, _Emma_ ," he apologized, making sure to put the emphasis on her name so she knew he was trying. "Tell me about yourself."

"I think everybody in town knows my story," she scoffed, rolling her eyes. "There's really not much to know about me. Just that finding people is what I'm good at."

He nodded.

"Did Henry show you his storybook?" Jefferson questioned, even though he wasn't sure how else to get the information he needed. He realized he probably shouldn't have, however, when her eyes narrowed.

"You believe that bullshit?" she asked him. "None of that stuff is true, Jefferson. It's just a story; you know, _fiction_."

Jefferson chuckled again.

"That's because you need to open your eyes to see," he stated. "You need a little faith."

"Don't tell me _you're_ the one who's been filling Henry's head with all that fairy tale stuff," she muttered. "Does Regina know?"

"Regina hates both me _and_ my father, Emma," Jefferson said, refusing to go into detail. He wasn't going to tell Emma everything, because he knew she would run screaming from his house if he did that. He was going to have to take this very slowly. "I spend time with Henry, yes, because the boy likes to hang out with me. But I'm not filling Henry's head with any stories."

She just nodded.

***

Jefferson always went into his tea shop at eight in the morning. Alice, who was his business partner, never wandered in until at least nine o'clock, and Jefferson liked to open up by at least eight-thirty in the morning.

He hadn't gotten much sleep the night before. Emma had gone to bed at least two hours before Jefferson climbed into his own, but he couldn't sleep for the longest time. He tossed and turned all night long, thinking about how his sister was there -- she was _right fucking there_ \-- but she was still untouchable, and probably would be for the rest of their lives.

Emma didn't believe in a curse.

Jefferson shook the thoughts out of his head as he opened up shop that morning. Their waitress, Ashley Boyd, was almost always waiting for Jefferson to unlock the door. She was six months pregnant now, but she was alone and worked very hard to make a life for herself and her unborn child.

"Hey there, Jefferson," Ashley greeted him with a smile, like she always did. Her blonde hair was up in a bun, and even though she looked exhausted, Ashley was always optimistic.

"Hey, sweetheart," he greeted her with a smile. He let them inside and then asked her, "Did you have breakfast?"

Ashley nodded, "Yeah, I ate, _Dad_." Ashley was often sarcastic, and frequently poked fun at Jefferson for doing what she called _mother-henning_ her. Jefferson just liked to make sure Ashley was taken care of. She was only nineteen, and was undertaking a huge responsibility, but Jefferson was going to help her out as much as he possibly could.

As usual, Killian came in at nine o'clock with Alice. Alice and Jefferson were good friends, and had been for several years, since Killian met her when they were in high school. Sometimes, Jefferson wasn't sure if Killian and Alice were dating, or if they were just good friends.

As the two of them came through the front door, they were laughing with one another and Killian was holding onto Alice's elbow. The sight of the two of them made Jefferson's heart drop.

Killian and Alice were always flirting with one another, even though Jefferson wasn't sure if it was a joke or not, but he'd always had a sneaking suspicion that they'd hooked up more than once. Jefferson would often watch the way that Killian flirted with her and wished that he was the one who'd caught Killian's attention.

However, Jefferson knew that was never going to happen.

When Alice came in and smiled at Jefferson, he looked at her for a moment and then said, "I'm going to the hospital for the day. Do you think you could hold down the fort?"

"Is something wrong, honey?" she asked him curiously. Jefferson practically _lived_ for Cheshire Tea, so when he wanted to take the day off, something was happening. "Is there anything I can do?"

Jefferson shook his head, "No, thanks. I'm going to be okay. I just...I need to visit someone."

"Jeffy --" Killian started, but Jefferson just shook his head, trying to keep his tears out of his eyes.

"Don't worry, Hook," he stated. "I'm going to be fine."

The hospital wasn't that far away from the tea shop, so Jefferson walked there. He kept on thinking about his family, about his life. How much he had loved Killian for so long, but he knew that Killian wasn't interested in him. Being a part of Killian's life, no matter how it made his heart hurt, was something that Jefferson was going to do, because he didn't think he could live without his friend, without knowing him.

"Nice to see you, Jefferson," Dr. Whale said as he saw Jefferson walk through the front door of the hospital. "Are you here to see our resident coma patient?"

Even though Dr. Whale often joked about the man who'd been in a coma for years, Jefferson didn't often pay attention to that. He just nodded to the staff as they each greeted him as he passed. He had stopped along the way to pick up a bouquet of flowers -- even though John hadn't woken up in over twenty years, Jefferson wanted there to be fresh flowers when he did wake up.

Because, even though nobody in the town thought that he was going to wake up, that thought _never_ crossed Jefferson's mind.

John Doe -- or, rather, Prince James -- _was_ going to wake up. Jefferson wouldn't hear of anything else.

He set the flowers down on the nightstand beside John's bed and sat down in the easy chair beside it.

He took a seat in the easy chair next to the nightstand beside John's bed. Jefferson often liked to read to John whenever he came to visit him. Many of the doctors in the hospital didn't believe that a coma patient could _actually_ hear it when someone spoke to them while they were asleep, but even as a child, Jefferson _always_ believed that John would be able to hear him.

"Hey, Papa," he said to John softly. He watched the sleeping man carefully as he said, "I found her. Emma. She came to see me." He sighed before continuing, "Of course, she doesn't know who I am. She refuses to believe it. But it'll sink in eventually."

Jefferson had a tradition of reading from his storybook whenever he visited John, from the very first time William had brought him here as a child. When Jefferson wasn't yet old enough to read, William would read the story for him. It was always _Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs_.

Jefferson had read his storybook so frequently that he had memorized every single story that was in-between the book covers. He knew every single word that was written on those pages.

It was a good thing that William had enchanted the book to make sure it didn't get worn out.

As he started the story, Jefferson's voice wavered a little bit. Even though he was busy telling John the story, his mind would often venture to what was going on right now. He was thinking about Killian and Alice, about Emma. They were going to remain on his mind probably for a very long time, but he really tried to keep his mind on the story he was telling his father.

He felt the tears come to his eyes as he read to his father. He didn't care how many people refused to believe; John _was_ his father. He didn't care how many people thought that his head was in the clouds, that Mr. Gold has poisoned his mind; he _knew_ John Doe was his father. _Knew_ that he would've been there for Jefferson every single minute if he'd wanted it. He _knew_ that Emma _was_ his sister, and just because Snow White and Prince Charming couldn't be with them right now, that wouldn't ever stop them from loving Jefferson and his sister.

He _was_ going to wake up.

Jefferson finished the story and for the longest time, just sat in the easy chair next to John's bed, silently crying. He felt the tears leave his eyes, even though he didn't want anybody to know what was going on with him, so he made sure he was silent. A hand flew up to cover his mouth as he watched his father carefully.

He wasn't even sure how long he sat there, but when he turned to look out the window, he noticed that night had already fallen. He ran a hand through his hair as he looked up and saw Killian standing there. Jefferson averted his eyes from Killian's face.

Killian had never seen Jefferson cry like this before. Jefferson had never wanted anybody to see him as weak, so he always held his feelings and sorrow inside. He was embarrassed that Killian had actually witnessed his tears.

Killian came towards Jefferson's chair as Jefferson wiped his eyes as subtly as he could.

"You alright, love?" Killian asked. He looked at Jefferson carefully, and as Jefferson sat there in his chair, Killian stood behind him and placed a hand on his shoulder. "Jefferson? Things are going to be alright."

"Just leave me be, Hook," he muttered. "I gotta go."

With that, he dashed out of the easy chair, grabbing his satchel, and he was out the front door.

***

Before he'd left for work that morning, Jefferson had gifted Emma with a key so she would be able to come and go as she pleased. It was a good thing, too, because by the time he got home, he just wanted to collapse into his bed.

So that's just what he did.

It was only eight o'clock, but Jefferson wanted some peace, so without even changing his clothes, he just tumbled into bed, and he fell asleep before his head even hit the pillow.

His sleep that night was a little better than the night before. He had several dreams about Prince James and Snow White and Emma, but those were mostly just that -- dreams. About how their lives could've been better if Regina'd never cast the curse in the first place. About how they would've been the perfect family.

But Regina robbed them of that.

It was the kind of dream that when he awoke at six-thirty the next morning, his heart hurt even more because of it. He sat there in bed, his alarm blaring, as he just let himself wake up.

After showering and dressing, Jefferson stumbled into the kitchen. After opening the refrigerator and pulling out a carton of eggs, that's when he heard the voice.

"Love, I wouldn't do that if I were you," the voice said, and Jefferson would've known the voice anywhere. It didn't matter where Jefferson was; he'd _always_ recognize Killian's voice.

Jefferson blearily looked up and noticed Killian sitting at the kitchen table. He looked like shit; there were dark circles under his eyes, he looked like he hadn't shaved in a couple of days, and his eyes were red and bloodshot.

"I assume you're talking about cooking?" Jefferson asked, even though he knew he didn't have to clarify.

When they were eighteen and just starting out, Jefferson and Killian tended to spend every minute they could together, because that's what best friends did. Killian took a job on a fishing boat while Jefferson was trying to get everything situated so he could open and run Cheshire Tea.

And Jefferson had gotten his mansion from William as a high school graduation gift, and Jefferson had moved in right away. Now, Jefferson wasn't the greatest cook in the world -- it had always been a well-known fact that he couldn't cook to save his life, but he was an _excellent_ baker.

And one night, while Killian was over and they were playing cards, Jefferson had put a chicken in the oven.

And he almost burned the house down.

Well, that was how _Killian_ told it. Truth of the matter was that yes, he _had_ started a small fire, and yes, the firemen _had_ been called, but it was put out in just a couple minutes. But ever since then, Killian hadn't _ever_ let Jefferson forget it.

So, every time Jefferson went to cook, Killian always brought that circumstance up. Not only that, but he _loved_ bringing up the story to anyone who would listen to him reminisce.

Instead of bringing that up, Jefferson just watched his friend closely. He sighed and then asked, "What are you doing here? Why are you even here?"

"I was just checking on you," was the answer he got. "You ran out yesterday, and I was worried about you. I came in around midnight, and Emma was surprised to see me, but she let me in anyway. Nice girl, that Emma. Are the two of you...?" he let his sentence drift off, but the implication was obvious. Jefferson just scoffed as he shook his head.

"No," he shook his head. "Emma's my sister, Hook. You know that."

"Do you _really_ believe that, though, Jeffy? Do you _really_ believe that the man in the coma, that Mary Margaret and now Emma, that they are _really_ your family?" Killian's words hurt. Jefferson had always known that Killian and the rest of the townspeople didn't believe him, and they were just humoring him, but even though he knew that, the words just felt like they were stabbing at Jefferson's heart.

"If you don't believe me," Jefferson said, voice soft but serious, "then get out, Killian. You've been my best friend for a long time, and I've always known that you didn't believe me, but I can't take it right now. Just leave."

KIllian watched his friend for a long time. If Jefferson had to guess, two or three minutes passed before he sighed, and then nodded.

"If you ever want to talk to me, Jefferson," Killian said softly, his blue eyes catching Jefferson's, "you know where to find me."

Jefferson was silent as he made his breakfast, he was silent as he made his eggs. He was silent as he ate, and he was silent as he watched out the window at the sun rising over the horizon. He knew that he wasn't going to talk much today -- he'd told his best friend to get out, and honestly, he wasn't sure if he was ever going to see him again.

Jefferson sat in his office for a while, thankful that he hadn't had any customers until Alice came in around nine that morning. Alice was very adept at making the tea and pastries, and she often took over when Jefferson didn't come in or was otherwise busy. Alice and Jefferson had bonded over tea back when they first met.

Jefferson went out and tended to customers; he filled tea orders, brought out pastries, but he was numb inside. He wasn't sure what he was going to do, because he'd told his childhood best friend, the man he'd grown up with, to get out of his life, and his sister wasn't ever going to believe they were related. It felt like he was at a low.

That's when Alice and Ashley did what they did best; they called William Gold. William had been Jefferson's foster father and had raised Jefferson like he was his own. Jefferson had known from a very young age that he wasn't _really_ related to William, but that didn't make William any less real to him. He loved him like he was his own father, but had always known that when John woke up, or when Mary Margaret _really_ met Jefferson for the first time, they would love him and accept him.

But for now, William was there for Jefferson whenever he needed a pep talk or kick in the ass. He was very good at doing both.

"What are you doing in here, dearie?" William asked as he went into Jefferson's office. "Is something troubling you?"

"I'm fine, Papa," Jefferson answered softly.

Even though William had never made it a secret that he wasn't Jefferson's father, he'd let Jefferson call him _Papa_ from the time he was very young. Because, even though Jefferson wasn't really his, William loved him as though he was, and raised the man since he was a baby.

"Why don't you tell me what's going on in that head of yours, son?" William asked as he took a seat next to Jefferson's desk. Jefferson just shook his head.

"I'm sorry, Papa," he answered him, "but I just don't want to talk about it."

"Come, come now, Jeffy," William tried to reason with him. "Talking about it will make you feel better."

"Killian and I had a bit of a disagreement," Jefferson finally admitted. "It's nothing."

"He doesn't know, does he?" William tried really hard to be sympathetic to Jefferson, even though he'd known since the very beginning that Jefferson'd had a crush on his friend. Jefferson just slowly looked up at his father figure.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Jefferson uttered, even though William _knew_ that Jefferson knew _exactly_ what he was talking about.

"Jeffy, we've never lied to one another before, have we?" William's voice was soft but firm; it was the same tone of voice that he used whenever he wanted Jefferson to tell him the truth. Sometimes, William just had to give him an order.

Jefferson just shook his head.

After a moment, Jefferson looked at William guiltily, "Isn't it wrong?"

"What do you mean, dearie?" William asked him gently. William wasn't normally a soft and gentle man, but he'd always tried to be the father that Jefferson needed, the one that he deserved.

"Killian should be like my brother, right? But he's not -- I love him more than that."

"In a different way, right, Jeffy?" William asked and Jefferson looked down at the floor and nodded.

"It's not wrong," William answered. "Even though you and Killian grew up together, you're not brothers. Not _really_."

Jefferson nodded. Finally, he looked up at his foster father and said, "How did you know?"

"Dearie, the only person who doesn't know it is Hook himself," William chuckled. "I know how to read people, remember."

"He doesn't believe me, Papa. He's never believed me."

"That's never bothered you before."

Jefferson shrugged, "I used to shrug it off. You know, because the townspeople tend to just want to humor me. So I used to pretend that people didn't think I was so crazy. If you don't think about it, it can't hurt you, y'know?"

William watched Jefferson for a good moment before he nodded and told Jefferson the same thing he'd always told him.

"Chin up, dearie," William said, patting Jefferson's folded hands with one of his own. "It's going to be better."

***

As time went by, Jefferson got to know Emma better, and they became friends. He didn't bring up the fact that they were siblings, or that Mary Margaret was their mother, or that John was their father. He didn't bring up anything that William had told him his entire life.

And two weeks went by before he saw Killian again.

Jefferson and Emma were up many nights, just talking to one another. He'd tell her a story about growing up as Mr. Gold's son, and she'd tell him a story or two about her past job as a bounty hunter. They got to know one another really well.

Then came the day when John woke up.

Jefferson had only been sitting there for about half an hour when John's eyes started fluttering. Jefferson noticed right away, and he stopped speaking to go and get a doctor. But then he was torn when he realized -- John had absolutely _no_ idea who he was.

"Who are you?" John asked him. "What are you doing here?"

Jefferson shrugged, trying to keep his tears at bay. "I just come to visit every once in a while. You don't have many visitors, so I'm just trying to help. So you don't have to be alone."

John nodded like he understood, but it tore Jefferson's heart in two.

"My name's Jefferson," he said, clearing his throat so his voice didn't waver. "William Gold's my father." When John looked confused, Jefferson clarified, "He runs the antique shop. I just like to help out when I can."

John nodded again.

Knowing that John didn't have any idea who Jefferson was tore him up every single time he thought about it.

He stayed for a little while to chat with John -- no, his name apparently was _David_ \-- but eventually went home. He felt like his heart was breaking, but there was nothing else he could do about it.

That night, he sat at the kitchen table, watching out the big window beside it, nursing a glass of rum. Rum had always been Killian's thing -- Jefferson had once asked Killian if rum was his solution to everything and, after taking a sip, he looked at his friend and simply said, _it certainly doesn't hurt_.

The rum was for his friend.

Jefferson wasn't really a drinker. Socially, maybe he had a drink or two, but he would very much rather have a cup of tea. Killian, on the other hand, drank rum like water. Jefferson knew that, and he was drinking this to remember his friend.

His heart was really heavy. He'd grown up with Mary Margaret, but she had no clue who he was -- who he _really_ was. And that killed him.

When the curse first hit the people of the Enchanted Forest, they ended up in Storybrooke, Maine, with their backstories. At first Regina had decided against putting David in a coma; just keeping him away from Snow White was going to be enough.

But then they'd found each other.

Mary Margaret and David had gotten together and had an affair, kept it a secret from everybody in town. Regina didn't suspect anything.

Until Mary Margaret fell pregnant.

Pregnant with Jefferson, and when he'd been born, that was all the proof that Regina needed to know that Jefferson was _actually_ a result of Prince Charming and Snow White -- a product of true love. That's when she wiped everybody's memories and asked William to raise Jefferson.

Mary Margaret was Jefferson's mother, for God's sake, but it'd been twenty-five years -- the entirety of his goddamned life -- that he was so fucking close to his mother, but never there. Never close enough to have what he really wanted.

A family of his own.

And sure, William Gold was his father in every sense except for biologically. William was a good father figure for Jefferson, someone who was always there for him whenever he needed it, and he took care of Jefferson as if he were his own.

William made that storybook for Jefferson so he had some good in his life. Enchanted it so it would never wear out when Jefferson had carried it around with him constantly as a toddler. And, even as he got older, Jefferson carried that book with him everywhere. It wasn't until he was twenty-two and Henry was four, that he saw something different in the boy. Something that not many of the residents of Storybrooke had.

That's when he gave Henry the book, and Henry now clung to it the same way Jefferson had when he was just a child.

Jefferson really wanted to stop thinking about his parents -- his _birth_ parents -- but he was really agitated when his thoughts turned to Killian.

A lot of kids didn't like Jefferson, because of what they'd been told their entire lives, since the adults of Storybrooke had always listened to Regina and all thought Jefferson was a little peculiar. Killian never listened to them, however.

And it wasn't just because of the fact that the two of them had grown up together.

Even when Jefferson was just a child and carried around his storybook, Killian didn't believe Jefferson and what he'd grown up knowing, but at the time he'd never tried to change Jefferson's mind, either. He'd indulged him, and, even though many of the people around Storybrooke had labeled Killian as Jefferson's enabler, he didn't think himself that.

Or, at least, that's what Jefferson had been led to believe.

Jefferson took the last swig of his rum, grimacing as the burn went down his throat, and then sighed to himself. He _really_ hoped that he hadn't ruined the relationship with the only guy that he'd ever loved.

***

Two weeks had passed, and Killian and Jefferson hadn't reunited yet -- they'd barely even spoke to each other and had gone out of their way to avoid one another. Jefferson sighed as he went into the tea shop that morning.

He could feel the frown cover his face as he saw John -- no, wait, his name was _David_ , he _had_ to remember that -- came into the shop, with a woman that people had said was his _wife_. Jefferson knew the truth, but it still killed him to see him with _her_.

"Welcome to Cheshire Tea," Jefferson had greeted them warmly, even though he didn't _want_ to. "The name's Jefferson, and I run this shop. Do you know what you want?"

They told Jefferson just to bring them whatever he thought was good, as it was their first time there, and he nodded and scurried off to get their order ready.

While he was brewing the tea, he heard someone come up behind him. When he turned around, he was shocked to see Killian standing there.

Even though he had an idea that it'd been him all along.

Killian could be a sneaky bastard. He had a specific skill set of being able to walk around and not many people realized he was there. The only reason Jefferson knew someone was behind him was the fact that he and Killian had grown up together.

And that Jefferson could practically _feel_ his eyes on him.

"Hey there," Killian's voice was soft and gentle. "I think this is the longest that we've gone without speaking since we were twelve."

And Jefferson _remembered_ that fight.

Jefferson had always been interested in tea, even when he was just a child. He'd gotten his very first tea set from William before he could even remember. It'd always been on a shelf in his bedroom, and when he was young, he used to have tea parties with it. It wasn't abnormal for William, Jefferson, and Killian to have tea parties together when Jefferson was young.

He'd always had a soft spot for that tea set.

And then, when they'd been twelve years old, Killian had broken the teapot.

It was an accident, and even though Jefferson _knew_ it was an accident, it didn't stop him from being _pissed_. He was so angry at Killian's carelessness, and he did his best to avoid the boy with everything he could. Finally, two and a half weeks later, William had rounded up the boys and made them talk it out.

The tea set hadn't exactly had a sentimental value to him or anything -- he was angrier that Killian's carelessness had been the thing that had gotten his favorite teapot broken.

Jefferson cleared his throat as he asked Ashley, who just appeared in the kitchen, to take the tea and pastries he'd just made up to David Nolan and his wife.

"How're you doing, Jeffy?" Killian asked him softly. He came further into the kitchen and sat down on a stool that was inside the door. "It's been three weeks."

Jefferson nodded as he busied himself with tea. He'd been trying to create a new tea blend, and it was something that'd been on his mind for the last couple of weeks or so -- something to distract himself from arguing with his best friend.

"I'm okay, Hook," Jefferson said quietly. "Busy."

Killian nodded.

"How about you?" he asked, looking Killian in the eye for the first time. "How've you been?"

"Busy. I've been working overtime."

Jefferson nodded.

For the first time since they were children, there was an awkward silence between the two. That tension had never been there before, and Jefferson had _never_ wanted it to be there, but he wasn't sure how to fix it. He just watched his friend for a good moment.

"Killian, I -- "

"Jeffy, there's --"

They both started to speak at the same time, and Killian chuckled while Jefferson could feel the blush climb up his cheeks.

"Why don't you go first, Hook?" Jefferson asked his friend, who just nodded.

"Jeffy, there's something I need to tell you," he said again, watching Jefferson closely. "Something I've been holding in for a long time."

"What is it?" Jefferson asked, and Killian could see the concern shining in his friend's stormy eyes. Killian licked his lips nervously.

"I, uh...I kinda love you, Jeffy," Killian said, and for a moment Jefferson wondered what the big deal about that was. Jefferson and Killian had grown up telling each other they loved each other -- what was so different about this?

That's when it hit him.

"Hook," Jefferson said, a look covering his features, "do you mean love _love_? Like, romantic love?"

Killian blushed as he nodded.

"Please tell me you feel the same, Jeffy. Please tell me that I didn't just tell you something that you're gonna hate me for."

Jefferson took a deep breath as he watched Killian. Finally, he nodded.

"I do, Hook," he said softly. He went up to his friend; Killian stood as he saw Jefferson approaching. "I have for a long time. Since we were thirteen and I first found out what romantic love _was_."

Killian brought his good hand up to caress Jefferson's cheek, running his thumb across the other man's cheekbone. Jefferson smiled as he kept eye contact with him.

Jefferson wasn't sure who the first person was to move, but it wasn't long before Killian's hand moved from his cheek to the back of his neck, cupping it as their lips brushed together tentatively.

And _God_ , kissing Killian was pretty much everything Jefferson had ever wanted, ever since they hit thirteen and he found out what romantic love _was_ , a lot like he had told Killian.

Jefferson tilted his head to the side, and that's when Killian opened his mouth just slightly, giving Jefferson access to deepen the kiss. Jefferson slid his tongue inside his mouth, and their tongues tangled together.

Killian moaned into the kiss, his good hand staying on the back of Jefferson's neck as they kissed hungrily. The both of Jefferson's hands traveled down Killian's body, going down to rest on his ass.

"Hey, Jeff --" Killian and Jefferson jumped apart from one another when they heard the kitchen door open and Alice walked through it. She could tell that she had walked in on something, and that's when the smirk crossed her lips.

Jefferson knew that he was going to hear about that later.

"Yeah?" he asked, his voice rough. He reached up to wipe at his mouth, but apparently it wasn't subtle enough.

"Sheriff Swan is here," she mentioned, her blue eyes dancing with mirth. Jefferson knew by the look Alice was shooting his way that he was going to regret that she walked in on them. "She wants to see you."

Jefferson nodded. As Alice left the room, he looked back at Killian. "We need to have a talk," he said softly. "Come by my house later tonight?"

Killian nodded as Jefferson went out to see what Emma wanted.

***

"How about dessert?" Emma had gone to dinner at Regina's, at Regina's request, and the one thing that Emma wanted was for her brother to be there.

Even though she had no idea _who_ Jefferson was to her, he was excited that she'd asked him to.

When Regina brought out the tray of apple tarts, she seemed adamant that she'd wanted Emma to eat one, and it sparked suspicion in Jefferson's mind. So, instead, he said to Emma, "Don't do it."

"What are you talking about, Jefferson?" Emma asked at the same time that Regina shot Jefferson a nasty look.

"It's poisoned!" Jefferson exclaimed. If looks could kill, Jefferson would've been dead and buried by the look he was getting from Regina.

"I'll prove it to you," he stated, and then, to prove it, he pulled the tart that Regina had purposely put on Emma's plate and put it in his mouth. That's when he fainted.

Emma panicked, but looked between Regina and Henry, who was just standing there. Regina got up to call an ambulance, and Emma looked at her son.

"What do I do?" she asked.

"Emma, he did it to prove to you that you can't trust my mom," he said softly. "He wanted to save your life."

Emma just looked puzzled.

"The reason Jefferson ate that was to prove to you that my mom was out to get you. If he hadn't done that, that'd be you right now."

Emma let the words sink in as she followed Jefferson to the hospital. She was nobody, except for the sheriff, so she sat out in the hallway and watched as KIllian entered the hospital.

"Swan," he greeted her as he sat down beside her. "What's going on?"

The tone of his voice was urgent, because he _needed_ to know what was happening. This wasn't _just_ Jefferson; he was the guy he'd grown up with. The guy that William Gold had raised, the guy that Killian had been in love with for the last twelve years of his life. He needed to know what was going on with him.

"Jefferson, he -- I mean, he ate something, and now --" she was stuttering, and she knew it, but she'd spent the last several months with Jefferson, and even though he'd tried to talk her into the same thing Henry did, that Emma and Jefferson were really siblings, she'd gotten attached to him. She was worried for him.

"Emma," Henry said, watching her closely, "don't you see what Uncle Jeffy did? He did it to save your life! It's a sleeping spell."

"And this means...?" Emma asked, her voice trailing off.

"You love him," Henry said. When Killian and Emma had a mixture of surprise and shock on their faces collectively, Henry snickered. "That's not what I mean."

Emma looked at her son, puzzled.

"Uncle Jeffy is your brother. You love him, like family loves one another. You may not believe he's your brother, Emma, but you believe that he's your friend and that the two of you have bonded. True love's kiss will break the spell."

"What about me, mate?" Killian asked Henry. Henry eyed him.

"I know that you love him, Hook," Henry said to him, but then eyed Emma again. "But Emma's the savior. She needs to be the one to break the curse."

Emma sighed as she suspiciously eyed her son.

"What's a kiss on the forehead or the cheek or whatever gonna do? I know you love him like he's your brother," Henry said. "And once you do it, that's when you'll see. You and my uncle _are_ siblings, Emma. You'll see."

Killian and Emma eyed Henry suspiciously once again, but something about the way that Henry was so sure in what he was saying, that's when the memory hit her. 

A memory of when she'd first met Jefferson, how he'd taken her from staying in her car to her staying at his house in a guest room. When she'd asked his price, he told her it was nothing.

Emma grew up in foster care. She knew that in the real world, you never got something for nothing. Not unless you had an attachment to someone.

Emma then nodded at her son. "I'm gonna do it, Henry," she said to him. "We'll see what happens."

***

Henry had been right. It shouldn't have surprised Emma any; since he brought her here to Storybrooke, everything Henry'd said to her had been true -- every _single_ thing. Once she actually thought about losing Jefferson for good, she'd decided she had to do something. She needed to know that he was going to be okay, no matter if Jefferson was really her brother or not.

And then it hit everyone. Emma kissed her brother -- her baby brother, as it turned out -- on the forehead, and that's when the curse was broken. When Emma actually started believing what Henry had been telling her for the last several months.

When Jefferson opened his eyes, he looked up at Emma as he smiled.

"I knew you'd believe me eventually," he smiled. For a brief moment he got a worried look across his features as he said, "You _do_ believe me, right? You believe what I'm saying?"

"Yeah, I do," she said. "I'm sorry."

"For what?" he asked as he crinkled his brow.

"I could've broken this curse so much earlier if I'd just believed."

Jefferson smiled weakly, "You grew up in foster care, Emma. You don't believe in fairy tale endings -- it's okay. I get it."

"I gotta go talk to Henry," Emma said, and that's when Jefferson nodded.

"Hey, love," Killian said to Jefferson as he sat down by Jefferson's bed -- which, he hadn't even _heard_ Killian enter the room, so it'd surprised him. "How are you feeling?"

"Do you believe me, Killian?" Jefferson asked softly. "Do you believe what I've been saying all my life? About who I am? About who _you_ are?"

Killian nodded.

"Love, I am _so_ sorry I never believed you," he said, and Jefferson could see both the remorse on Killian's face and the tears that were in his eyes, unshed.

Jefferson reached up and rubbed the back of his hand across Killian's unshaven cheek. "I understand, Killian," he said. "Even when you didn't believe me, I always understood, even though I got so frustrated sometimes. I'm just glad that you're still here."

That's when Killian leaned down and captured Jefferson's lips with his own.

***

After Jefferson was discharged from the hospital and went back home to rest, he woke up abruptly in the middle of the night. Checking the clock on his nightstand, he saw that it was after three in the morning. He felt a little movement next to him, and that's when he felt the arm draped over his waist. He glanced to the right of him and that's when he saw Killian there, fast asleep.

Jefferson turned onto his side and he gazed at Killian's face. Something that Jefferson had always thought, even when they were just children, was that Killian looked so peaceful when he was asleep. As creepy as he thought it made him sound, he liked watching Killian sleep, because he looked like he didn't have a care in the world.

Even before the curse broke, when they were still small children being raised by William Gold, Killian often carried the weight of the world on his shoulders. He often felt like he had to make people happy and would do anything to do it -- he felt like he had something to make up for, even when he _knew_ better than that.

But the person that Killian wanted to please, more than anybody in the entire world, had always been Jefferson. Even when Jefferson never realized it before.

Jefferson cupped Killian's cheek, running his thumb across his unshaven cheek, and that's when Killian's eyes snapped open.

"Hey, love," he said, his voice husky from sleep.

"What are you doing here?" Jefferson whispered, his stormy blue eyes staring into Killian's own blue ones.

"I've come and stayed with you many times before, love," Killian whispered back. "What's so different about now?"

Jefferson smiled softly, "Because you're in my bed, Hook. You don't usually climb into bed _with_ me."

Killian laughed softly. 

"I just had to be with you, Jeffy," Killian responded. "I'm never letting you go again."

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me on tumbr [here](http://gabby227.tumblr.com/).
> 
> I take prompts.


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